


Five Times Sherlock Found Candles Illuminating, and One Time He was Left in the Dark

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many times when Sherlock finds that candles have a surprising effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Sherlock Found Candles Illuminating, and One Time He was Left in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fan flashworks Candles Challenge on LJ.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta scfrankles for coming up with the title and suggesting that my convoluted sentences would be better shorter.
> 
> Warning for infant death (non-violent)

Sherlock had told Lestrade to meet him outside St Saviour’s Church just before 6pm on the first Sunday in December. He had deduced that was where the gang they had been tracking would be making their final move. However, he hadn’t expected the church to be steadily filling up with people, including families with young children. Sherlock confirmed that he was still convinced that this was the right place and time, and Lestrade, who had only brought a few officers with him, replied that if necessary they would just sit and watch. Both had concluded that the service was being used as a cover.

Sherlock had brought Victor Trevor with him. They’d known each other on and off for years, but for the past few weeks Sherlock had been seeing Victor on a more regular basis. The gang were known to be violent and Victor was good in a scrap. It was best not to ask how good Victor was in a scrap, some of it wasn’t technically legal, although all of it was authorised by at least a part of HM’s government. Sherlock had wanted to ask John to come with him, but since Mary’s second baby was due imminently, he had been told not to.

It was clear that they would have to attend the service, so Sherlock reluctantly entered the church. He even more reluctantly accepted the orange that was pressed into his hand on entry. He and Victor went to sit in one of the pews near the front. As the service progressed Sherlock’s expression became more and more resigned, even as he watched Victor entertain himself by swapping the sweet filled cocktail sticks on his orange with the now empty ones belonging to the small boy sitting next to him.

Finally the service reached its conclusion, with the vicar announcing that the candles in the centre of the oranges would be lit during the singing of the next hymn. The lights were switched out in anticipation of the church being filled with candlelight. The first candle was lit, and there was a cry of “what on earth ..?”

Sherlock was out of the pew before the speaker could finish saying “... is going on?” Then there was another shout, followed by the sound of someone trying to switch the lights back on to no avail. Sherlock heard Lestrade’s voice calmly and clearly telling the congregation to remain seated. And then he heard Victor equally calmly repeating the vicar’s earlier words encouraging everyone to light their candle and pass the flame on.

The sight of the gang being led out of the church by Lestrade’s team, illuminated by candlelight was long going to be one of Sherlock’s most treasured Christmas memories.

***

Sherlock had been going out with Victor Trevor for a few months, so when he knew Victor’s birthday was coming up he wanted to do everything right. He consulted with John and Mary and Greg and arranged to have them, plus a few other friends, round for a small party. Mrs Hudson had been happy to make a birthday cake. And when the lights were switched off and Sherlock emerged from the kitchen carrying the cake with the candles lit, he expected everyone to start singing. What he didn’t expect was Victor to rapidly leave the flat.

Sherlock pushed the cake into the arms of the person standing nearest him, leaving the others to blow the candles out, and rushed down the stairs. He found Victor sitting on the bottom step, shaking. 

“I didn’t make the cake, Mrs Hudson did, so it’ll be quite safe,” Sherlock began, unsure as to what had led to Victor’s behaviour. He assumed he must have decided Sherlock was trying to drug him.

“I’m sure the cake is fine,” Victor replied. “It was the candles.”

“But you’re okay with candles. You were invaluable at the Christmassy thing with the candle in the orange.” Victor said nothing and Sherlock looked closely at him. “It’s cake candles, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Victor rubbed a stray tear from his cheek. 

Sherlock looked thoughtful. “And specifically candles on your birthday cake. Your mother died a week after your eighth birthday. Was that the last time you had candles on your cake?”

“Yes. I refused to have them after that. Despite being ill my mother had made every effort for my birthday tea. She told me to make a wish when I blew the candles out. I wished that she would get better.”

Sherlock nodded.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock. I’ve ruined your party.”

Sherlock leaned across and kissed Victor. “No you haven’t. The worst that will have happened is that the gannets up there will have eaten the evidence. And don’t worry, you’re not the only one to have an aversion to certain types of candle – ask Lestrade if you have any doubts about that.”

***

It wasn’t unusual for Sherlock to find that the detectives from New Scotland Yard, come to harass him about some failure of his to conform to certain protocols, and not finding him in his flat, had decamped to Mrs Hudson’s flat where they had been offered tea and cake. What was unusual was to find a group of them there, after having passed Lestrade smoking furiously outside the front door of 221. 

Sherlock looked at Sally Donovan. “What happened?”

“Nothing, the boss just said he was going outside. He didn’t give a reason.”

“I know. I came past him on the way in.”

Sally shrugged and accepted a piece of the cake Mrs Hudson was handing out.

Sherlock turned and went back outside to find Lestrade. He looked at him critically. Lestrade turned his back, so Sherlock decided to address his remarks to his coat.

“You’ve been in Mrs Hudson’s flat several times and it’s just as it always is. Wait, there was a scent. She’s been burning scented candles again. Nothing very unusual there – she claims it’s in response to my experiments. But it’s a new candle; the last one was orange scented. This is lemon.”

Sherlock noted the Lestrade’s shoulders tense. “I can’t think of anything to do with lemon scented candles though,” he added.

Lestrade turned round. “There’s no way even you would know this one. It was a few years ago when I got called out to a case. A fatal fire had been started with a candle; all very unpleasant. When I got home, having had a few drinks on the way, I found my wife burning a scented candle. I blew it out and stuck it in the dustbin. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her why, and she never asked. It wasn’t long after that that she started seeing someone else.”

“It was a lemon scented candle?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, I’m back now, so you can come up to 221B with me, I might even be able to find the file you’ve presumably come to collect.”

“Thanks, Sherlock.”

***

A few months after John had moved in with Sherlock the power went off. Sherlock looked out of the window and noted that since none of the other buildings in the street had any lights it was clearly a general outage and not just the trip in 221. He collapsed back on the sofa, opting to retreat to his mind palace until the power obliged him by coming back on.

John meanwhile headed carefully down the stairs, saying that he was going to check on Mrs Hudson, ignoring Sherlock’s comment of “She’ll be fine. She’s an old lady; she’s used to dealing with such things.”

He wasn’t allowed to remain on the sofa for long though, because John shouted up to him “I think you should come down. I’m worried about Mrs Hudson.”

Reluctantly Sherlock stood up and stomped down the stairs. He joined John by Mrs Hudson’s door, which was slightly open. He could hear singing but the words made no sense. They knocked on the door and went in together.

Mrs Hudson had heard them enter, because she called out “I’m in here boys. You can come and join me if you like.”

They went into her sitting room to find that she had placed a number of candles on a coffee table and surrounded it with chairs.

“Are you okay?” John asked.

“Oh yes,” she replied. 

“We heard you singing,” Sherlock said.

“Since I can’t watch the television or listen to the radio I was entertaining myself. When I was a girl I used to do this with my friends. We’d sit round the candles and sing songs we sang at Girl Guides and pretend it was a camp fire. It’s a tradition I’ve carried on, because it gives me an opportunity to remember my old friends. You can join me if you like.”

“No, thank you,” John said. “We just thought we should make sure you were okay.”

They hurriedly made their way back upstairs, as Mrs Hudson began singing lustily, “Oh, you’ll never get to heaven on a boy scout’s knee...”

***

Sherlock walked into the cathedral and looked around for Lestrade. He saw a few of the Yarders standing together, close to one of the small side chapels, so he went to join them. As he reached the group, Sally Donovan also came up. Sherlock noted the expression of some of her colleagues.

“You’ve just been to light a candle,” he said to her.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Sherlock looked at her. “Those candles are normally in memory of someone. You’re still upset, so a recent death, not your grandmother who died five years ago.”

“What?”

“You had time off for her funeral. And anyway you’re pragmatic, so this was a sudden death. Family, but not immediate family, or you wouldn’t be here at all. You’re a reasonably competent police officer, so that rules out an adult death – you’ve seen enough of those that your mourning for an adult relative would be kept private. And illness, rather than accident or other cause, because you feel unable to do anything except light a candle.”

“Yes, right. My cousin’s baby due to cot death. Satisfied?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry ... for your cousin’s loss.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

***

They had traced the men they were after to a disused warehouse. Lestrade had told them to wait for him to arrive, but Sherlock, adamant that they didn’t have the time, had told John they should go into the building. They split up, John to search towards the right and Sherlock to the left. Sherlock heard a sudden movement and moved towards the noise, but not quickly enough, because he felt a blow to the back of his head and fell forwards.

He came round to find John kneeling beside him and Lestrade hovering behind John. He groaned and felt the back of his head. Reassured that there was no bleeding he started to sit up.

“Next time I tell you to wait, do it!” Lestrade grumbled.

“I’d have been alright if the corner hadn’t been so dark,” Sherlock muttered.

Lestrade and John both laughed.

Sherlock pulled a face.

Lestrade said, “Maybe we should enlighten him.”

They laughed even harder. Finally John took pity on him. “You were hit with a rubber torch.”

Sherlock groaned.

“It’s okay,” Lestrade added. “Victor’s on his way so that should brighten your day.”


End file.
